


Octopussy Galore

by eeyore9990



Series: 30 Thankful Days [16]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Derek, In Summary: There are Tentacles, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Tentacle Fingers, Tentacle Porn, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, with tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:33:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5228849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The beginning sequence to the new James Bond flick opens more than the movie.  It opens Derek's eyes to a kink he had no idea he'd possessed.  </p><p>--</p><p>Or, as Wolfie says: "I'd be more explicit. Tentacles. There's tentacles."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Octopussy Galore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lena_221b](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lena_221b/gifts).



> 30 Thankful Days, Day 16: Gift for Lena221b

_Spectre,_ the new James Bond movie, had been out for nearly a month and Mockingjay Part 2 was drawing all the crowds, so there were only two other couples in the theater when Stiles finally talked Derek into seeing it with him. They talked quietly through the pre-movie commercials and theater specials, then went silent, Derek's hand on Stiles' leg -- a solid reminder not to jitter -- as the previews started. 

Stiles remarked on one or two that looked good, laughed like a dork at the one obviously aimed at those with poop-joke humor -- Derek would let Scott accompany Stiles to that one -- and then the theater went dark to signal the start of the movie. The classic Bond film opening sequence started and Derek relaxed into his seat, content to wait through the length of the newest chart-topping song. But then his eyes opened a little wider, his hand on Stiles' knee spasming as the sequence went a little… odd. 

Yes it was obviously James Bond drowning in a sea of shadowed women, but there were _tentacles_ winding around them all. Sliding in sensuous undulations over hip and breast and thigh. Circling shoulders and teasing the viewer as the tips disappeared into shadowy areas. 

The stoic look on Bond's face made Derek drop his gaze for a moment, and it was in that moment that Derek realized he was being watched from less than six inches away. 

"Yeah?" Stiles asked, his own breathing heavy though Derek knew it had nothing to do with the song or the… the _porn_ playing out. Stiles' reaction hinged entirely on the flush in Derek's cheeks, the catch of his breath, the stutter of his heart. 

Stiles often joked that he was Derek-sexual, but it had never rung more true than it did at that moment. 

Sitting up in his chair, Stiles looked around, took in the emptiness of the theater, the rows of seats behind them. "Come on," Stiles murmured, his voice soft but underscored with the husky heat of excitement. "I've always wanted to do this." 

Threading his fingers through Derek's, Stiles pulled until Derek tumbled after him, abandoning their drink as they hunch-walked their way to the back row, a good fifteen rows separating them from the next closest person. Stiles slapped up three arm rests in a row, dropping silently between two seats to hold them both down and then gesturing for Derek to do the same, giving them a bit of space to frolic. 

Derek tried to ignore the dizzyingly heavy scents of those who'd had this same idea in the past. He couldn't completely, though, which made him oddly more aroused. He'd be laying his scent markers over those others. He'd be claiming this spot for himself and Stiles. 

Swallowing, he whispered, "You've always wanted to make out on a public theater?" 

"What? No, dude. Been there, done that, own three t-shirts in a variety of colors. I meant," he dragged Derek down, turning his head with a strong grip so Derek could watch the final few moments of the opening sequence, "I've always wanted to do this." He held up his hand, drawing Derek's attention as the theater lit with light from the screen. 

Stiles began to chant then, in a language that had obvious roots in Phoenician, and as he spoke, Derek's throat clogged with the scent of magic and the pressure that came from Stiles wielding it so close. And then… his fingers, already so long and almost spidery, began to grow, thickening at the base and growing narrow at the tip. 

Derek gasped, nicking the tip of his tongue on teeth gone suddenly sharp, his eyes bathing the theater in a blue haze. Stiles was sprouting _tentacles_ from his hands and all Derek wanted was to feel them sliding down his throat. 

Or up his ass. 

But Derek would never push Stiles. He'd learned early on that giving Stiles the lead meant pleasure beyond his ability to conceive it. Breathing heavily, he waited, every muscle tensed to the point of pain, for Stiles to do something more. So far this was a parlor trick. 

Stiles would never interrupt a hard-won movie night at the theater for something so showy. 

Gripping Derek around the back of his neck with his still-human hand, Stiles guided Derek into stretching out, his head coming down on top of the first lowered arm rest. With his body splayed out, Stiles went to work, allowing his tentacles to glide lightly over Derek's chest and down to tickle the insides of his thighs over the tight denim covering them. 

"Stiles," Derek pleaded in a whisper, bringing his shaking hands to play, tugging at the front of his jeans until the button and zip were undone. Stiles used his free hand to help Derek yank them and his underwear down his hips and past his thighs, hooking them down over his knobby knees. 

"Tell me this is okay," Stiles murmured, his voice cracking slightly as he went a little too low with the register in deference to the quiet coming from the movie. 

Derek just nodded, reaching out and twining his fingers with Stiles. "Please," he mouthed, hoping Stiles could see it. 

"Jesus," Stiles breathed, then lowered his transformed hand to Derek's belly. The tentacles reached out, going in different directions in ways the bones and joints of fingers could never accomplish. 

Derek gasped, hips jerking up as one tentacle slithered over the head of his cock, the tip teasing under his foreskin to tickle the wet, sensitive tissue below. Stuffing his own fingers in his mouth, Derek sucked at them, stifling his own unconscious noises as another tentacle circled his navel, yet another teased the seam of his balls, and-- 

He shuddered, heart beating a manic rhythm as a sucker from the first tentacle kissed at his slit, the suction so precise and directed that Derek let out a muffled sob. It was good, so good it _hurt,_ and it was all he could do not to flip right off the seats he was splayed over, naked and helpless and trembling in a theater occupied by and smelling of complete strangers. 

Stiles slipped down, kneeling on the questionably clean floor. He shifted around, moving close enough that he could lean in, his mouth opening over Derek's in a filthy wet kiss that was mimicked by the tentacles flexing and curling over Derek's body. 

"I want to fuck you with them," Stiles moaned into Derek's mouth, his voice a little more rough, a little louder than was wise. 

But Derek just nodded, licking at Stiles' teeth. Fighting the restriction of his jeans around his calves, he tried to splay his thighs wide, begging with his body for something his mind had been unaware he wanted thirty minutes before. 

Stiles' arm moved, his wrist easing between Derek's thick thighs, giving him more room to work. More _leverage_ for what he was about to do. 

Derek whined loudly, the noise swallowed up by a combination of Stiles' mouth on his and an explosion on the screen, as a tentacle circled his rim, flirting around and around until his hips were rocking into the touches. Another tentacle joined the first, the two of them flickering and teasing until one began to wind its way inside Derek, so thin at the tip that it slid right in. 

The tentacle inside him rippled, shooting sensations throughout his body and making his eyes roll back as his mouth dropped open, beyond even the ability to breathe it felt so good. The second tentacle joined it and the two began to twist around each other, spiralling deeper and deeper, winding tighter until their combination pressed against the walls of his ass, stretching him wide and wider still. And Derek just lay there, shivering in the cool, dark theater, his mind detached from his body by pure, simple pleasure. 

Stiles moved then, pumping his arm between Derek's legs, fucking those tentacles into him. As he did this, the tentacles that had been lying quiescent against Derek's thigh began to move. They snaked up, slipping and sliding over his cock, strangling and relaxing around his balls, pressing into his perineum. And as they did this, the two deep inside his ass began to undulate around each other, the movement massaging him deep inside, rubbing tantalizingly over his prostate. 

The combination of sensations was too much, too bright and desperate. Derek couldn't _breathe_ , couldn't drop low enough to find the place his orgasm began. He was strung tight, his chest pounding and mouth forming wordless shapes as he sought Stiles' gaze with his own panicked one. 

And then Stiles dropped his head to Derek's, pressed their foreheads together, and kissed him so sweetly before murmuring, "It's okay. Come for me." 

Derek could never deny Stiles anything when he asked like that. Jerking and shaking, he wrapped his hands in Stiles' shirt as his orgasm built from the pit of his stomach and rolled right over him. Come spurting from the tip of his cock to streak white and messy all over the tentacle that had been sucking and kissing along its tip. His ass clamped down on the two tentacles inside it, and when the one that had been pushing insistently on his perineum gave a little twitch, he choked, shaking his head wildly, over-stimulated. 

Stiles smoothed his hair back from his forehead, placing tiny kisses all over his face and whispering soothing nonsense into his ear. "So good for me, baby," he praised. "You were so good." 

Derek just blinked dumbly, mind unable to process sound into words so soon. He felt Stiles withdrawing the tentacles though and clenched down with every part of him, head shaking a little loosely as a low keening sound escaped him. 

"Shh," Stiles said, his voice calm and gentle. "It's okay. I've got you. I'm just getting you dressed so we can go home. I've got these things for another few hours at least before the magic wears off and there's some porn on the internet that I am _dying_ to try out." 

Derek tried to help Stiles then, tried to assist in pulling his clothing back into place, tried to tuck in his still-flushed cock and zip his jeans, but his fingers weren't quite working right yet. The buzzing in his ears had yet to go away, and he was pretty sure his tongue was actually glued to the roof of his mouth, so he just lay there recovering his breath as he let Stiles do it. 

And as he lay there, he let the idle thought _Can he do that with his dick?_ run through his rebooting brain. Maybe he'd ask Stiles. Once they got home. 


End file.
